


Blackout

by darksquall



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Deathfic, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 14:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darksquall/pseuds/darksquall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce has had enough. With the loss of his lover, he's reached the end of his tether. He gives Nick Fury the last he has left to give. (Contains Suicide, major character deaths, read with caution)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout

**Author's Note:**

> Neither the characters herein or the quoted song lyrics belong to me.

“Don’t kid yourself  
and don’t fool yourself  
this love’s too good to last  
and i’m too old to dream.”

Blackout - By Muse

He watched the doctor for a moment as the bustle of the café continued around them both. It’d been a few years since he’d seen the human side of the hulk in close quarters and while he was somewhat relieved that the doctor had suggested such a public place to meet. That meant that he wasn’t planning on letting the Hulk out – too much collateral damage. It didn’t mean the Hulk couldn’t come out, as he knew all too well. Banner was, as always, clever and manipulative. He’d gotten worse since he’d been around Stark.

In the years he’d known Banner, in the years since the Chitauri incident, Banner had never been comfortable with him. Which meant he either wanted something that no one else could provide, or he was desperate.

Nick Fury wasn’t sure which one would work out better for him.

He strode across the café, slipping into the chair opposite the doctor. “Doctor,” he said in greeting.

“Finished watching me?” Banner raised an eyebrow at him. “Ready to talk?”

Fury judged the man in front of him carefully. Banner looked so much older than the last time he’d seen the man. Greying hair at his temples and in the rough, several days of growth on his chin. Shadows under his eyes and sallow cheeks gave away his exhaustion, just as much as the slump of his shoulders. He kept his arms wrapped around himself, as though he were afraid that if he let go he’d fall apart.

He wasn’t the same collected, calculating man that had turned up on the bridge of his base some ten years before, nervous but always listening and planning. He was still just as suspicious, just as cautious, though.

Banner was a man haunted, and that made him more dangerous than ever.

“What can I do for you, Doctor?” Nick leant forward in the chair, folding his hands on the table with a creak of his leather gloves. Just to prove he was not reaching for his weapon. Of course Banner would know that there were half a dozen agents already in the café enjoying a chance to get out of the boat and guard the commanding officer in public, their hands never far from their weapons. Even if he’d been Stark’s lab partner for years – there were things a man learnt while running for his life that he would never forget. Banner had more than a little brush with reality to tide him over there – Banner would have a damn fine idea of where all of the agents were, too.

“It’s more what I can do for you,” Banner tipped his head, scratching a hand through his hair. His hands were trembling, and he was obviously exhausted. Fury was feeling more ill at ease by the second. “I’m giving him to you… the other guy.”

Fury straightened, wondering if he’s heard right. “Would you care to repeat that, Doctor? I think I misheard.”

Banner shrugged, “You heard right. I’m giving you the Hulk.”

A distant voice in his mind offered the terms ‘gift horse’ and ‘mouth’, but a much more prominent voice reminded him that while the Hulk was one of the most dangerous creatures on the face of the planet, the brains behind the bulk was just as dangerous, if not more so. Where the Hulk was pure violence and force, Banner was crafty, and entirely too clever for anyone to take at face value. “Do you mind if I ask why?”

“Have you heard about Tony?” Banner picked up the glass of juice he’d been nursing since before Nick had sat down.

“Yeah. Damn shame,” Fury nodded, noting the pale, drawn skin of Banner’s fingers. “I know you were close, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Close,” Banner scoffed, slamming the glass on the table. Several hands twitched closer to weapons throughout the café but the slightest shake of Fury’s head returned the watching agents to their ready positions and back into their acting roles. “You wouldn’t even know about close.”

“I know you tried everything to save him, Doctor Banner.”

“But it wasn’t good enough,” he hissed, glowering from under his eyebrows. Banner’s eyes flashed green for a moment, and he covered his face with a hand, just drawing slow, deep breaths. Fury had barely noticed the greenish tinge to Banner’s skin until it faded away again. “It’s never good enough, Commander. I couldn’t save myself, I couldn’t save the people I cared about…”

The hand fell away. Banner looked him straight in the eye and when he spoke again his voice was cold and completely devoid of emotion. Banner never sounded that way – nor did the Hulk. There was always something in his voice because he was a nice guy. Even with everything that had jaded him, every vicious little curve ball that life had thrown at him. He remained a good guy with an infinitely shitty hand having been dealt to him. “That’s why I’m giving you the Hulk,” he shook his head and shrugged. “And a way to control him.”

“I thought there wasn’t a way to control him,” Fury sat back in the chair, folding his arms.

“You’ve read the notes on me,” Bruce stated. “You must have known I’d find a way eventually.”

“I had every faith in you, Doctor,” Fury nodded. He tried to read something, anything from Bruce. In that moment when he’d sounded so cold, something had changed in Banner – the tension, the tiredness had drained from his face, leaving absolutely nothing in it’s wake. Fury could read almost any man, having spent so many years in the field for his country and his fellow man – but Banner was suddenly so empty and silent, that he had to wonder if there was anything left. “So… do I get to know the details?”

Bruce looked at him. No, Bruce looked through him. Fury might as well have been a manikin for all the recognition he saw in Banner’s eyes. Then, just for a moment, he lit up again, his eyes alive and real again, not green, not tired, and they darted to the large picture window of the café. Fury wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but outside it had begun to rain. Strangers hurried along in the suddenly dull day, hiding under hastily discovered umbrellas or the meagre shelter offered by their newspapers. The drops fell against the window with an audible patter, and it took Fury a minute to realise it wasn’t a person that had caught Banner’s attention, it was the rain.

“Doctor…” Fury prompted gently.

“Tony liked the rain,” he said softly, with a heavy sigh. A man with the world on his shoulders. “This will be a good day to die.”

“Die?” he echoed, staring at Banner for a moment. “I didn’t… Doctor, what are you implying?”

Bruce gave him barely the briefest glance, then pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “We shouldn’t do this here,” he said and without another word, walked out of the café. Fury followed, one hand on his gun beneath his coat, and agents streamed out of surrounding buildings to follow as they followed Banner through the streets. He walked like a man possessed, ignoring everything but the most dangerous of obstacles, until they reached an open area. A quiet area, the perfect place to release the Hulk. No collateral damage. No lives to endanger except those who knew what they were letting themselves in for.

Banner took off his glasses and tossed them carelessly to the floor, turning his face to the sky.

Fury unhooked the catch from his holster and stepped as close as he dared. The gun provided very meagre protection – it would probably only serve to make the Hulk angrier if he were to use it, actually, but it felt safer somehow to have his hand on his weapon. “Doctor Banner… what do you mean a good day to die?”

“I guess die is the wrong word,” he gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. The emotion had returned to his voice and he sounded so very, very broken. A man on the edge, a man with nothing left to live for. His shoulders were slumped again and he looked as though a stiff wind would blow him down. “I worked it out. I don’t have to die per say. I just have to wipe out enough of my brain function so stop myself existing. Just leave enough for Him to reason with. I just need to give him enough humanity for you to be able to communicate with him… so he can take mine.”

“Doctor Banner… you don’t have to do this,” Fury took a step closer. For a moment he wanted to reach out, offer some comfort or reassurance, offer anything that would stop Banner. He’d seen enough people take their own lives to know that desperation in the doctor’s eyes. He knew there was no comfort enough in the world to prevent what was to follow. He had to try, though. He had to offer some words, even as hollow and useless as they felt on his tongue. “Tony wouldn’t want you to to do this.”

“Tony didn’t want to die, either. Tony didn’t always get what he wanted…,” Banner’s voice trailed off and he winced visibly, taking half a step backwards. Clutching at his head, he gave the sharpest, briefest cry of pain. “It’s too late, anyway. It’ll be over soon.”

“Bruce,” Fury began – it was so rare he used anyone’s first name. Too long in the military, too long in SHIELD. Too hard to make a connection to anyone except those he had to. Life moved on around him because he couldn’t bring himself to get attached. “Please.”

“You can tell Pepper I’m sorry,” Bruce said, lifting his head to look at Fury. His eyes were rimmed with red. While the rain had briefly bought him comfort, it had also hidden his pain. “For all of it.”

Then Bruce threw his head back and screamed. The green swept through his skin like ink on tissue paper, and the seams of his shirt creaked audibly before they stretched and ripped out. First Banner fell to his knees, then all fours, his back bowing and stretching as his shirt fell away in shreds and the scream turned into a roar. Nick Fury had seen it happen on the vid screens, but he’d never heard Bruce Banner’s bones grate as the mutation ran rampant through his body. He’d never seen the pain, or the fear in Banner’s eyes.

When he next lifted his head, he was the monster, the Incredible Hulk, and there was nothing of Banner left in his eyes.

The Hulk breathed in, and out slowly, and shifted to his feet. He glanced around, cautious of the weapons trained on him and something rolled away from his hand.

Fury stared up at the monster before him. “You listen to me, now?” he half asked, half commanded.

The Hulk snorted, and nodded just once. Watching him. Waiting.

Refusing to show weakness, Fury bent to pick up the small, metallic item he’d seen fall from the monster’s hand. It was nothing much, a small transmitter with a push button. Small enough to fit in the hand of a normal human.

Tucking it into his pocket, he looked up at the Hulk again. “Come on. Let’s take you home.”


End file.
